


the one with the meetcute

by skioctober



Series: ode to self-indulgence [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, MeetCute, Romance, So I delivered, Waitress AU, diner au, sis wanted a self-insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 22:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18082022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skioctober/pseuds/skioctober
Summary: “This is my number. I've been trying to get you to ask me out for weeks, but I guess you're the kind of man who needs things spelled out loud and clear. So this is me spelling it out loud and clear.”





	the one with the meetcute

**Author's Note:**

> Been a hot minute since I posted anything on here, but let's give it a go.
> 
> Just a cute gift for my sister who, when I asked her who she shipped with Steve apart from Peggy Carter (we're still bitter over the sinking of this ship) so I had something new to write, responded with "me lol". Same, girl, same.
> 
> So here we are. It was odd to write my sister as herself rather than a character based off her, but I still had fun with this. I will never not enjoy writing Steve and I think he would appreciate my sister for the petty, take-no-shit girl boss she is. I may write a follow-up for this, but who knows?
> 
> As always, feedback is appreciated and I hope y'all enjoy reading!

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Around the time the customers at table six give her their _third_ lewd once-over of the afternoon, Alyssa decides she's about to lose her shit.

Sure, she needs this job to pay her rent on time and being friends with the boss man has its perks, but Christ she can only put up with so much bullshit in a day.

The guys are semi-regulars, come in once or twice every couple of weeks. Enough that she can recognize their faces even though she can't remember any of their names.

Alyssa loathes them.

She tries to ignore it. She was raised with firm manners and she has Southern hospitality down to an art. They come in just infrequently enough that she should be able to let their glances and comments roll off her shoulders.

But it's already been a shitty week and all it takes is another stage-whisper about how her tits look “real good” in her top for her patience to evaporate.

She's already en route to their table, coffee pot in hand to top them off. She arms herself with a sharp smile that would make her grandmothers proud and allows her eyes to cut daggers into the leering patrons.

“Can I get y'all anymore coffee here?” she asked, voice syrupy sweet with an exaggerated drawl.

There's some soft snickering, the sound of which makes her want to grind her teeth, and the closest one eyes her disgustingly.

He slides his cup to the edge of the table. “Top me off, sugar.”

Her smile intentionally flattens. Pet names are commonplace in this part of the country and she drops them often enough herself, but the way the word rolls off his tongue makes a nasty shiver crawl up her spine.

She fills the cup obligingly, and yanks the pot back enough that some of the coffee sloshes over to splash across the back of his hand.

He yelps, the sound satisfying in her ears, and glares at her accusingly, but Alyssa simply maintains her smile and starts spilling false apologies.

“Oh, I am just so sorry about that, _sugar_ ,” she coos, eyes sparkling with delight. “I've been runnin' all morning and my hands get so shaky sometimes, you know?”

The man opens his mouth, probably to say something truly demeaning, but a voice calls over from across the diner.

“Excuse me, miss? My pal and I are ready to order.”

“I'll be right over,” she replies, before the man in front of her can get a word out. She gives him a wink. “You enjoy that coffee now. Jerry will take your tab at the counter.”

And she turns abruptly on her heels to strut over to table nine, near the back, where her favorite customers are patiently waiting, watching her with a mixture of consternation and amusement.

Her mood improves considerably, and she doesn't pretend to deny the little skip in her heart – _not_ her fucking heart murmur, despite what her sister slyly teases – when she looks into a pair of cornflower eyes.

Steve and James are full-time regulars here. They come in at least once a week, always on Sunday, and they always order the same thing without fail.

Alyssa has made a game of trying to get them to branch out to other items on the menu. So far, her attempts have been dismal failures, but she likes a good challenge.

More challenging than a new order, though, is getting Steve to take her on a date. She's been giving signals, but she can't tell if he's uninterested or simply unobservant.

James had caught her out the very first time she leveled Steve with a flirtatious flutter of her lashes, but Steve remains oblivious. It's not discouraging, per se, but it is frustrating. She's never had just a string of boyfriends one after the other, but neither has she met a man who didn't at least notice when she started making eyes at him.

James catches her eye and offers a saucy wink. He's clearly the more outgoing of the pair, at least socially, and despite his lack of a left arm he has seemingly no trouble keeping up a flirtatious rapport with Alyssa.

She's never minded much because James obviously isn't a creep about it, but now she wonders if their back-and-forth, platonic though it is, is giving Steve the wrong impression.

Food for thought, such as it is.

“Thanks for the rescue, darlin'.” She clicks her pen out and her smile this time is genuine. “What can I get y'all? Same as usual or are y'all finally ready to try something else? Chicken-fried steak's the special today.”

James hums thoughtfully, pretending to consider the options, but Steve just grins guiltily. “Same as usual, ma'am. Those pancakes are half the reason I come here, you know.”

“Uh huh,” she says, jotting it down. She pins him with a wry look. “And the other half?”

It's the perfect opening, even a fumbling teenager could connect the dots and say the right thing, but Steve flushes a light pink and stammers something about the coffee being “real swell”.

_Swell? Really?_ Alyssa bites back a sigh. She's only a little put out with him – he's pretty adorable when he's flustered – so she rallies and teases a little more boldly.

“And here I thought it was little old me what kept you comin' back.”

Steve sputters some, which delights her, but she turns to James to get his order so Steve can chew on her words. She doesn't miss the flash in his eyes, though.

Progress.

“What about you, slick?”

James gives her what can only be described as a panty-melting grin, and she's sure that if she wasn't already smitten with his best friend she'd be giving him something better to do with that sinful mouth. As it is, she's considering setting him up with her sister – moody, dark-haired flirts had always been Anna's weakness.

“Bluebird Special's fine,” he says, eyes flicking over to Steve. “And some more of that “swell” coffee, if you got it.”

Steve couldn't possibly look any less amused, but their byplay gets a chuckle out of Alyssa and Steve's expression softens at the sound.

“Alright, I'll put these in and be back around with that coffee.”

She clips up the paper and notes with some relief that table six has cleared out and gone. She's surprised there wasn't more of a fuss, but then again Jerry, despite his lean stature, has a reputation for knocking the socks off people looking to cause trouble.

And Alyssa is the favorite server here.

She gets James his coffee, makes a few more passing comments, and busies herself with busing table six while she waits for their food to come up.

It's routine work, so her mind begins to wander and unsurprisingly it goes right back to Steve.

He and James have been coming in for almost a year now, since last Christmas. They're nice guys, genuinely decent men with good humor and impeccable manners. They're drop-dead gorgeous, too, which is a nice perk, but really they're good people and that's what matters to her.

It's obvious that they're military, given their postures and the tags that gleam around their necks. Not quite terse enough for the Marines, so she figures they're Army, but their circumstances are a little mysterious.

It's easy to guess that James lost his arm overseas, but Alyssa doesn't know him well enough to pry at such personal information no matter how friendly they are. They both seem well-adjusted, however, so she wonders if they've been out for a while.

Then she starts pondering what might have happened to Steve over there, what he may be going through, and wonders if his lack of interest in her is connected to that.

Is he not in the right place to be looking for something like that? Maybe he's got some mental scarring he's working through, doesn't want to add dating to the mix.

A smaller voice wonders if maybe she's just not his type, and that's enough to make her roll her eyes at herself. She's always been a little shy about her weight, but it's been years since she would curl in on herself and try to hide away.

She's a grown woman now, and a goddamn catch. She takes care of herself and pampers her looks, what does it matter if she has few extra pounds, a couple of curves here and there?

He could be gay, however, and that is a genuine concern. Wouldn't it be just her luck that the single most beautiful man in existence should frequent her diner and be attracted to other men?

It's certainly happened before, more than she cares to admit.

She's tempted to take a break and call her sister, if only so she can have a mild freak-out with someone who will only slightly judge her, but Anna's out of town for work and honestly, Alyssa admits, that's a little childish.

She's grown. She's interested in a man who is also grown. His current circumstances are his business. If she wants to ask him out and he's not ready, all he has to do is say no. It would suck, sure, but at least she could say she made the effort.

“If you don't ask, the answer's always no,” she mutters, rolling her eyes at how much she sounds like her father. That's been happening a lot lately.

Sid calls her order out and she loads up her arms, expertly transporting the food and delivering it with a flourish.

“Bluebird Special for Casanova,” she quips, setting down the assortment of plates. “And banana-split pancakes for the swell guy.”

Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly, thanks her politely.

“I dunno how you eat that shit, punk,” James mutters, eyeing Steve's pancakes with a look of unparalleled disdain. “'S nothin' but pure sugar.”

He's right, of course. The cakes are smothered in cream and chocolate syrup, with a small heap of cherries, bananas, peanuts, and sprinkles. Even Alyssa rarely orders it.

“Best thing I've ever put in my mouth,” Steve retorts, punctuating the statement by shoveling a huge forkful of sticky pancake into his mouth and chewing exaggeratedly.

James only snorts and shakes his head.

Alyssa, without missing a beat, without _thinking_ , blurts the first thing that comes to mind. “Only because you haven't had me.”

The effect is immediate. Steve chokes on his mouthful of pancake, startled by her frankness and the sheer implication of her remark.

James grins big and bright, like Christmas just came three months early.

Alyssa just stares straight ahead, mortified by her own smart mouth. But.

_In for a penny, in for a pound._

The damage is done, so she may as well roll with it. She rips a page off her notepad and flips it over, scrawling her number a little bigger than usual to ensure he can read it.

She slaps it down on the table in front of him and meets his wide eyes head on. She's surprised, and pleased, to find that there's more than shyness in them.

“This is my number. I've been trying to get you to ask me out for weeks, but I guess you're the kind of man who needs things spelled out loud and clear. So this is me spelling it out loud and clear.”

The silence lasts only a beat and then Steve's expression shifts, firms into something authoritative and while usually that would irritate her, with him it hits all the right notes.

Finally.

“Dinner at six, this Friday.” His voice is steady and the words aren't a suggestion. She loves it.

“Pick me up by 5:30. Text me for my address.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

She grins, a megawatt smile that immediately has Steve's cheeks turning pink again. She laughs, taps him twice on the shoulder with her pen. “See you Friday. Don't forget the tip.”

James barks out a laugh as she walks away, and Alyssa feels ten feet tall. Her earlier vexation is gone, smoke in the wind, and she's practically glowing. Jerry teases her for it when she walks by.

She steps into the back and decides to call her sister after all.

Anna can be the one to lose her shit.

 

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End file.
